


Ms. French

by CantSpeakFae



Series: The Scars Souvenir [5]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Episode revision + revisit, Written from Xander's P.O.V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 05:10:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantSpeakFae/pseuds/CantSpeakFae
Summary: But he never claimed to be smart. Just sixteen and helplessly horny.





	Ms. French

Truth be told, Xander probably should have seen this one coming.   
  
He would’ve seen it coming, actually, if he’d just been paying attention to the signs. Ms. French was pretty - too pretty - and any world where a woman who looked like THAT even glanced at him for longer than it took to dismiss him from existence couldn’t be anything but trouble. Hell, one of the “signs” was Buffy, herself, looking him in the eye and telling him that his newest fixation was a great, big BUG. But he’d still managed to ignore it. Willfully, in fact, because the part of his brain that knew she was trouble was overruled by the part of his brain that went “Hnnngh, lady pretty” whenever she looked at him.   
  
But he never claimed to be smart. Just sixteen and helplessly horny.   
  
Of course, now he’s sixteen and helplessly terrified. His one plan for escape went about as well as anyone would have expected and now he’s strapped down in a basement, staring down a praying mantis that laughing maniacally in his face, getting ready to give him the worst - and last - night of his life.   
  
He should be doing something. Running, maybe? But his legs are all shaky and useless. She’s gonna mate with him? He’s not ready for that. Even if the ending number wasn’t him biting his head off, he’s not ready for it. He wasn’t ready for it when he stepped through the door, he wasn’t ready for it when he saw her short dress with her cleavage on display, he wasn’t ready for it when he nervously accepted the drink she offered him and he’s really not ready for it, now, with another guy locked in a cage behind him, about to witness it.   
  
“Kiss me!” The bug formerly known as Ms. French laughs. “Kiss me!”  
  
“Can I just say one thing? HEEEELLLLP! HEEEELLLLP!”  
  
Then there’s Buffy.  
  
Then there’s Giles.  
  
Then there’s Willow.   
  
And it’s chaos. Xander thinks he might be in shock. He doesn’t really remember the ensuing fight, not even when he grabbed a can of bug spray and pushed down on the top so hard it nearly shattered in his grip when he sprayed it into Ms. French’s beady, buggy eyes.   
  
But it’s over. Fast. Too fast, really. A blur of fear and anger and desperation. They all stand in the basement, exchanging glances between each other and the hacked up mess of bug.  
  
“Well, I... I'd say it's deceased.” Giles said, ever the king of understatements.   
  
“And dissected.”   
  
Clever pun from Willow, but not enough for Xander. He doesn’t just want her chopped up. He wants fire and ashes like a vampire. Nothing left at all, because he’s pretty sure his already turbulent sleeping schedule is about to be even worse than it has been.  
  
But he doesn’t say that. He just looks at Buffy - the girl who just risked her head to save his neck. His hero. As ever. “You okay?”   
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Just for the record, you were right, I'm an idiot, and God bless you!” He says, earning himself a nod of Buffy’s head and the faintest of smiles. He turns to Giles and Willow and considers throwing himself at them. He thinks he both needs a hug and never needs to be touched by anything ever again. Funny how that works. The not wanting to be touched wins by a mile, though, and so he keeps his distance when he says, “And thank you guys, too.”   
  
“Yeah, really!”   
  
Xander nearly jumped out of his skin when Blayne stepped forward. Jeeze, he forgot he was there!  
  
“Pleasure.”   
  
And then Willow is tugging on his arm. He flinches but he doesn’t think she notices. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” She says, softly. “It’s so unfair how she only went after virgins.”   
  
The sound Xander makes is something like laughter, but harshly edged with hysteria as his gaze darts back and forth between Buffy and Willow. Seems like a weird time to be making a joke, except they both look serious and -  
  
“What?”   
  
“I mean, here you guys are, doing the right thing, the smart thing, when a lot of other boys your age…”  
  
“Flag down on that play, babe. I am NOT…”  
  
“Well, you see, that's the She-Mantis' modus operandi. Uh, she only preys on the pure.”  
  
They’re arguing about it.   
  
Xander stands there and listens. They’re arguing about it. Blayne is turning red with fury and Willow red with embarrassment and Giles red with exasperation at Blayne’s protests. And they’re ARGUING about it. Discussing it. Like it’s nothing - like Xander hadn’t almost just been...  
  
“Well, isn't this a perfect ending to a wonderful day!” He says, out loud, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.   
  
Blayne scowled. “My dad's a lawyer. Anyone repeats this to anybody, they're gonna find themselves facing a lawsuit.”  
  
God, how can he say that so casually? He was caged up for two nights, at least. He saw another guy get eaten. How could he be so... “Blayne! Shut up!”   
  
“I don't think it's bad, I think it's really…”  
  
Xander’s not listening to Willow, anymore. His blood is boiling. His heart is pounding in his ears. How can they be standing there and… how are they talking about this like it’s a theory and not something that… He grabs the machete and holds it up, startling Willow, who squeaks.  
  
“ ...sweet! It's certainly nothing I'll ever bring up again!”  
  
But he’s not really paying attention to her, anymore. He just takes his weapon over to the nest. The nest where he would have been… He looks it over, he thinks about what she was going to do, and then he starts to hack away at it.  
  


* * *

  
Blayne never mentions it to anyone. Xander’s not particularly surprised by that - who would believe him? But he never looks twice at Xander again, either. Never tries to talk to him, or joke with him, or even belittle him. And that’s worse, Xander thinks. It wasn’t like he expected to be _friends_  with the guy. He was an asshole. But…  
  
There wasn’t really anyone else who would’ve understood how Xander felt, after. There’s no time to process, really. No one _asks_. Another monster, another mystery. More research. Ms. French is left in the dust with nothing but the occasional joke as a reminder. There’re too many other things to worry about, he supposes. It’s just like Jesse. It happened, it was bad, and then they never discussed it again.   
  
Except, Xander wanted to.   
  
That’s what hurt. He wanted to tell someone everything that happened. He wanted to explain - wanted someone to explain it _t_ _o_ him. Tell him that it wasn’t smart to go to her house, and it wasn’t smart to take the drink, but that it wasn’t his fault. He wanted Giles to reassure him, or Buffy to hug him, or Willow to tell him that everything would be okay. He wanted _Blayne_  to talk to him. Tell him that he had the same issues, the same nightmares, tell him how to cope or tell him that it was okay that he wasn’t coping.   
  
He wanted parents he could cry to if he felt like it.  
  
Didn’t happen.   
  
Maybe it would’ve if he’d said something. If he ever sat down and opened his mouth and made it a point to tell them something that wasn’t a joke. But he didn’t, either. He just grinned at the bug jokes that were aiming for flip but arriving at snarky and focused on every new monster like it was the first monster and sometimes even watched scary movies just to try and nightmare something else for once. Coping. That was the true spirit of a Scooby.   
  
 _To this day, praying mantis anything turns his stomach. Some things just never go away._


End file.
